Things That Go Hump In The Night (62 page)

Journal Entry
-
December 5, 1952

Oh journal, finally the long passage from early spring to this cold winter morning is complete. Last evening, I gave birth to twins. Bobby swore I was getting as big as a Frigidaire by the time the midwife came. We named them Matilda Court Taylor and Naomi Court Taylor. I prefer my maiden name as a middle name, and he agreed. They came full of life screaming at the top of their little lungs. Naomi was even born with a little tooth already, not sure about nursing her.

Bobby seems the assured father; he’s been ready for children since he was put into management down at the bank. All the important managers have large families. It seemed to have taken us a while before we were blessed with children. Nearly five years since we were married before these firstborns. Others we socialize with have a much larger brood. Why, the McKinley’s have five now, and they are both in their mid-twenties.

Twins. I can hardly believe it. Twice the feedings and double the diaper laundry, but exponentially blessed. Naomi with her ashen tuft of hair, pale ice blue eyes, tiny little toes, and that one sweet tooth. Dear little Matty (Matilda), the carbon copy of her sister right down to her weight, however with darker hair and no tooth to be seen.

Mamma read the Bible to them earlier. It seemed to calm them right down, and they went off to sleep all peaceful like. I read somewhere that a couple of drops of lavender oil on their bed linens or a few drops of whiskey in their night milk will work too. There’s so much to learn about babies.

Rose is a happy aunt. She fusses over them as if they were her own. She hasn’t found her a man yet; she chooses instead to devote her life to her studies. She writes in her spare time, mostly on scholastic topics for review journals and academic projects. It truly seems that we were one person split in two in the womb. While I married and will rear children as my vocation, she is alone and publishes her research. She prefers quiet evenings by the fire, and I prefer entertaining large groups. I still will prod her to settle down with someone, but I know it is in vain. I wish we both could enjoy ourselves in this life, and she didn’t feel the need to be serious enough for us both.

~CEC

Chapter Seven - Sleigh Bells Ring

It was Christmas Eve, and the weather was downright frigid. Hard frosts were what you woke up with, and the afternoon sun left much too soon. Gabby tried to conjure up some Christmas spirit and found none to be had. She had never been very spiritual, and there was little family left to make it into a Norman Rockwell-style holiday. Landon was the one with all the holiday cheer.

He’d drag her to stores collecting bows, garland, ornaments, and ribbon. He was the one to decorate every room of the house. And, hysterically, while in his leopard form, he proceeded to play with everything in sight. Gabby’s extent of Christmas spirit was still crying at every viewing of
A Charlie Brown Christmas
. It was something about the tree. This little flawed twig that became something perfect. No matter how many times she saw it, she still cried. At times, she thought that it was a metaphor for good living. That a life lived right could transform its owner’s flaws and defects into something special.

Decorations she couldn’t get into, but there was one Christmas thing she could do- food. She loved the baking associated with the winter holidays.

She practically chained herself to the kitchen; breathing in spices and seasonings until her eyes watered. She didn’t just prepare “potatoes”, she prepared six types of potatoes just in case one of the guests didn’t like them a specific way. Gabby’s Christmas Eve dinner had invitations going out to half the neighborhood, plus her closest friends and the small bits of family that remained.

“The woman can create miracles with flour and butter,” Landon said to anyone who’d listen.

They didn't have the heart to tell him they'd heard this every year, except before it had been from Tim's mouth. They still had trouble seeing Landon at the house on the holidays instead of Tim. However, they’d nod in silent agreement. The men would secretly wish their wives would get the recipes, and the women would wish their husbands appreciated their achievements in the kitchen the way Landon did Gabby’s.

She baked torts, custards, pies, and cookies. Rows of sugared sprinkled tidbits. Some red, some green, but all completely banned from Weight Watchers. Each year she made a “take home basket” for every guest; with cinnamon cakes and spice cookies for the kids, flan and glazed baked pears for the adults. Her holiday table had more desserts than side dishes.

The holidays are sweeter when laced with sugar.
Soon all the guests would leave and the holiday get together would end. She would be deathly tired, worn both from the meal preparation and the constant worrying that someone may crave something she hadn’t prepared, but she'd be completely content. Every year was the same.

Landon beamed at Gabby, with the silent knowing that he was going to propose to her as soon as the house was free from guests. He'd go out into the garden, drop down to one knee, and explain how he'd waited for her his whole life. How there was no other woman that could ever be what she was to him. He'd hope that enough time had passed that she could consider a life with him and a future with a snow leopard. Just knowing it was a few short hours away made his leopard restless, and he could feel the pacing inside him. It made him jittery as if he'd had too much coffee.

Wait, it's not time yet. Soon
. He pleaded with his leopard.

All through the evening, Gabby had made mental notes of all the tips different parents employed to keep the magic of Santa Claus alive in their child’s mind.
Just in case, one day...

Gabby was fascinated, if somewhat excluded from their conversations.

“A black sooty footprint on the carpet near the hearth.”

“Move a log just a bit outside the fireplace, like Santa knocked it out.”

“I sprinkle crumbs and spill a bit of milk by the plate.”

Laughter filled the room, and it felt warmer even without the fire being lit. Though the people in the room had changed, there was the same feeling of family. Perhaps even more so now that Landon was a part of it, even inviting his family. Thankfully, his parents seemed to like Gabby, taking a huge weight off her shoulders.

One by one, they made their way out of the door and back to their homes leaving Landon and Gabby to themselves after a long day.

"Some of those Santa tricks were cute. It'd be nice to have a kid to do stuff like that for."

"Yea, that was pretty nice." He tried to comfort her. He wondered if his secret could be the key to her happiness or if it would ruin everything.

"Gabby? Care to take a walk with me to the garden?" He held out a hand to her.

Taking his hand in hers, they started toward the flower beds. They sat on an engraved cedar bench, listening to the birds and smelling the sweet smell of the night jasmine in bloom.

"Nice out tonight," she said, looking up at the stars.

"Always is with you," he said. The ring box was in his pocket as he toyed with it in his fingertips.

He eased it out without her seeing, opened it, and said quietly, "Gabby, darling, would you do me the honor of staying with me forever?"

She sat stunned, silent and frozen. The pause went on long enough that Landon closed the box and got back up beside her on the bench. He patted her thigh as he said, "That's okay Gabby, you don't have to answer tonight."

The words came flowing out like a faucet. Tim, Alex's baby, the uncertainty of everything. He just let her vent, knowing that getting it all out was probably the best thing for her. When she was done, he wiped her tears and said simply, "It's okay. I love you, and that isn't going to change. Ever."

"Are you still staying over tonight?" She didn't know whether not answering changed the relationship or not. And if it did change it, how.

"Of course. I'll be here tonight and every night that you let me be, Gabby. I love you."

They stayed there on the deck, silently looking at the stars until it was too cold to continue.

Chapter Eight
- Baking Biscuits

Gabby arrived early at the high school, hoping to grab a Coke prior to the start of the school day. She’d be here for three days and wanted to start it off on the right foot by getting herself used to the school layout.  The teacher she was replacing was a Teacher of the Year, according to the awards wall in the room. She was already in the room, ready to prep Gabby for the day before she left. She would have three classes total, but double the time of standard classes. She was apprehensive about the day ahead. It was AP Biology, and it had been years since she was in a Biology lab. She hoped she didn’t look as lost as she felt.

She had ninth graders, 14-15 year-olds by her calculations. She had been warned that three students she would have today were pregnant. It was hard for Gabby to fathom this thought. It hadn’t been so long ago that she was in high school, yet so much had changed. Now there were special codes for weapons violations, drug violations, and pregnant students. Simple over the counter pain medication was now banned, an expellable offense, thanks to the school’s new zero-tolerance rule.

Every student she’d see today, a total of 80 she counted, would have a copy of
Hot Zone
. Nice new paperback copies not used ones from the library. It was standard reading for every year in this county’s school system. She tallied the royalties its author earned just in this school system alone.
Only a complete book nerd would think that way
, she thought. Still, she was one book nerd completely jealous of the numbers.

The first class of the day was an utter disaster. In this school, videos weren’t on videotape or DVDs. They were downloaded off the internet and played via a network connection. A lovely, efficient method when all is going well, a horrid nightmare when it didn't. During the hour, the video they had attempted,
Ecosystems: Organisms and Their Environment
, decided to freeze up during the feed. Gabby had to restart it over and over again.
This is progress?
To her horror, she remembered that the class blocks were one and a half hours long, not the forty-five minutes she was used to. An hour and a half of nothing but busy work thanks to the defective download.
Thank God, the paraprofessional is coming for the last block.

She scanned the faces of the students as they chatted loudly among themselves. One had blue hair and a nose ring; there was Ash –the Goth- with the heavy eyeliner, and a couple in the very back who were sitting a bit too close to one another. Gabby realized the female of the couple was pregnant. She stopped viewing her students and longed for the innocent faces of the kindergarten class from November.

Her students were uncontrollable. They talked, stood up and walked around at their leisure. Some just slept. Gabby thought about reprimanding them but didn’t want to fight a losing battle.
Let them do their worst.

It was lunch break that drove in the final nail of her first day of teaching high school coffin. She got lost on the way to the lunchroom, thanks to someone giving her a map that was photocopied backward. Then finding five minutes to touch base at home, she was reprimanded for using her cell phone. She had never been around a school faculty that repeatedly belittled the employees that it tried so hard to fill their absences. Gabby wrote out a formal request “not to be called again” from this particular school.

“She baked your biscuits.”

She didn’t know what this meant, but she heard it twice that day. Her love of a well-turned smartass comment came in handy with this set of students.

Out of all the verbal warnings, she finally just said to the loudest of the bunch, “What part of ‘Be Quiet’ could you not comprehend?”

It was this comment that invoked the first use of the burnt biscuits. She then turned around and asked the young man who said it, “And could you not comprehend ‘Be Quiet’ either?"

Again, the burnt biscuits comment met her. She gave up. This could obviously go on all day.

The children were rude and disrespectful. The faculty was as bad if not worse.
What happened to manners?

The day was long and frustrating. Gabby found herself thinking of parenting a high school student.
Would I be any better at it? Will I even get that chance?

“Mrs. Oakes, the bell has rung twice now.”

Gabby snapped out of her thoughts to utter an apology and a class dismissal. One student distinctly mumbled “Stupid bitch” as he left. Students filed out of the class toward their cars or the school bus, and she closed up the classroom for a mad dash to home.

It was at that moment, Gabby realized it was time to stop the part time substitute teaching and dive head first into full time writing and a life with Landon. Her life was at a standstill. Trying desperately to keep hold of the past while going on with her life was not only exhausting but impossible, and she realized she might lose Landon if she didn't wise up.

She just hoped that it wasn't too late. It had been weeks since his proposal.